Musing

3 weeks ago by @merdafuit

Lyrics

Haunted by wings of sweet-scented bergamot--
the last kiss of summer--the rain
here scatters some roses and pale-blue forget-me-nots.
A memory comes calling: your name.

Still, what do I find here, dampened and drear? It’s
those traces of ardor, now plain
kinds of lost feeling that hamper the spirit
left knocking around what remains.

It’s in this hot season, the air sticky, still,
where hurricanes blast apart currents of will
we find oft repeating the lies of our youth:
that some kind of love holds yet some kind of truth.

But in truth we’re found wanting,
and in truth we’re found numb,
and in truth we’re left standing
around stricken dumb.

When back in the moment, our tongue found again
we might yet lift up our old heart
and shake out the cobwebs of dreams with the pen
that infests this bleak world with our art.

Oh lover, oh muse, oh creature beguiling,
do not wait to quicken my hopes
that come beating around on wings that go sending
those rainy-day bergamot notes.

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